


Sampi's Touhou Prompt Theatre

by ClockworkSampi



Category: Touhou Project
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-13
Updated: 2018-10-20
Packaged: 2019-03-18 00:26:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13670457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClockworkSampi/pseuds/ClockworkSampi
Summary: Prompt 1: Byakuren & Okina, PoliticsPrompt 2: Mai & Satono, Something WickedPrompt 3: Doremy & Shion, Do Not DisturbPrompt 4: Reimu & Aunn, KindnessPrompt 5: Rei’sen & Nemuno, Lost





	1. Byakuren & Okina, Politics

**Author's Note:**

> Touhou Project and all related trademarks are the property of Team Shanghai Alice. Please support the official products in every capacity.

O how Byakuren Hijiri longed to take out her vajra and start slashing, for was purging evil from the land not among a monk’s chief duties? And yet, Hijiri could not, she dared not.

 

Had it been Miko, or Reimu, or even those rather pleasant mountain gods that had come to her with this, there would have been no shortage of fists, sorcery, and motorcycles flying. After all, people had a certain...expectations when it came to Gensokyo’s religious leaders. If a summit were to occur and no magic fired anywhere in the proceedings, it would be a troubling day for Gensokyo’s peace indeed.

 

However, today’s guest was not one who Hijiri would normally have tea and a mêlée with. No...this debacle was going to have to be solved with _politics_.

 

Hijiri, by admission, was not good at politics, which was one large caltrop to the caring and compassionate. It was this exact destitution which had caused her to take a mandatory thousand-year holiday in Makai. But she had been holding her own in Gensokyo’s heat haze of a political climate well enough since her return to this realm. She made up what she lacked in greed and marketing know-how with an overflowing love of her fellow demon.

 

Once, she had informed Miko of this, who had laughed so hard her side ached for a week after and said: _If you can say that with a straight face, we’ll make a politician out of you, yet._

 

Now, Hijiri channeled all her political prowess to suppresses a sigh. She would trade what was in front of her with Miko in a heartbeat, she would trade _anything_ for what was presently in front of her. She liked to think she could tolerate much, but she had no patience for narrow-minded boors.

 

The guest had introed herself as: _I am the god of the rear door, a god of hindrances, a god of noh performance, a god of outcasts, a god of stars. One of the Sages who created our Gensokyo. She who must never be known, gazed upon, or thought of. The apotheosis of abstraction. The highest of high and the grandest of grand. The superlative, absolute, Secret God Matara. But please, there is no reason for such formality. Call me Lady Matara._

 

And if this was not enough to turn Hijiri’s smile glassy, there was what Okina _wanted_.

 

Hijiri looked up from the papers Okina had brought with her.

 

“I’m sorry, Lady Matara, but I’m afraid I don’t see much reason to allow you to establish a branch shrine to yourself at our temple.”

 

Okina looked hurt, but didn’t have the decency to at least attempt masking the fact she was feigning it.

 

“The terms are not to your liking, Sister? I am not asking to be enshrined. I recognize this temple as belonging to Vaiśravaṇa; we gods of Buddhism know how to respect each other’s territory. Being perfectly frank, if anyone comes out ahead in this deal, it is you.”

 

“Lady Matara, I am putting aside the fact that Matara-jin’s claim to canonicity in Buddhism is tenuous at best, and the fact that your only proof as being this god are centuries old contracts signed by Ennin and a shared name when I say that _no one_ benefits from your proposal.” Hijiri placed the ancient papers and one fresh blueprint on the desk. “Us, nor you.”

 

They were currently seated in Myouren Temple’s main office, which had been converted from the old captain’s quarters. It would probably intrigue Okina to know that the closet four feet to left contained, among the sutras and Outside World board games (which are a universal constant in any reputable religious establishment), Hijiri’s futon. These days, the temple seemed more full of life than ever, which left less and less space for space. Hijiri had taken the room under protest, but Murasa insisted, citing that while she may have been captain of the _Palanquin_ , Hijiri was to be the captain of Myouren. Okina would _probably_ be intrigued to know this, but since it did not include the glorification of Okina, Hijiri couldn’t see her being _that_ interested.

 

“You are familiar with the concept of branch shrines, Sister?” said Okina, as if speaking to the hard-of-thought. “One may go to pray at one god’s establishment and pray to another god while there? I am curious why you believe there is no upside to me patronizing your homely little temple.”

 

“The principle is widely known, yes,” said Hijiri, and continued her head with: _Funny you should mention patronizing; you’ve done nothing but since arriving._ Aloud, she went on in more pleasant tones, “The problem is, Lady Matara, and don’t take this the wrong way, no one has faith in you. You are not worshiped. Very few people even know you exist. You are, in short, a secret. Constructing a shrine to you is an inefficient use of our resources, and a waste of your time.”

 

Okina met Hijiri’s cold-blooded gaze with one even more reptilian before resting her head on a fist and crossing her legs. She lounged in the kappa-bought, mass produced chair like a better class of tyrant; one that probably wouldn’t behead you, because hangings were just so much neater.

 

“Sister Hijiri,” she said. “I am a Sage of Gensokyo. My word is worth my weight in gold. The populace will put their faith in me, and I invite you to do the same. Better me than any of the other Sages. Did you know they let animals run this land while they’re sleeping? What do beasts know the human condition?”

 

“I wouldn’t know,” said Hijiri brightly. “Maybe you should ask the crows. They seem knowledgeable.”

 

Okina shot her a look that promised the only thing that would come from speaking of the tengu was murder.

 

“I intend to reestablish myself in Gensokyo, Sister. I have seen what the other Sages have done in my absence, and I will be the one to restore balance. For that, I need people to have faith. For that, I need the support of community leaders who care, really, honestly _care_ about human-youkai relations. Now, I will ask you one last time before I take my leave of you: Will you accept my request, or will you deny me as well?”

 

Hijiri stared at the god stonily with knowledge she had lost.

 

It was likely Okina’s word _was_ worth her weight in gold, it wouldn’t even have to be that much; gold is extremely heavy, in addition to being shiny, malleable, frail, and only worth anything at all because of an imaginary promise behind it. But Hijiri knew Okina was unrepudiable in this instance. She had been at that flower viewing party, she had seen how uncharacteristically shaken Hakurei had been at Okina’s ubiquity, she had heard how Okina preferred how the whole truth of the Season Incident was unknown. And Gensokyoites of every shape and size were ravenous for information. Hijiri could already see the hordes of temple visitors they would have to deal with if she refused Okina: _Was she here? Is it true what they say? Was she here? What was she like? Was she accompanied by fleets of dancers? Was she here? Do we have to worry about our backdoors being invaded? **Is it true what they say?**_

 

For the sanctity of her temple, the only choice Hijiri had was to construct the shrine and save whatever face she could later.

 

Well, there was such a thing as losing with grace.

 

Too bad Hijiri wasn’t feeling particularly graceful today.

 

She put on the smile that occupied number four on Toyosatomimi no Miko’s list of Top Ten Smiles to Run Away From Very Fast.

 

“A moment, Lady Matara; you did not let me finish,” she said jovially. “There is no reason to build this shrine now, while this is no method to worship you. If you were to teach us a ritual to your divine glory, something to spectacular to bring in the followers, I would be more than pleased to have you at our temple.”

 

Okina, with the deliberation of one whose seat cushion has rapidly begun beeping, raised an eyebrow.

 

“My most-” she hesitated, then sighed. “Yes, I suppose those two layabouts _are_ my most devout followers, by virtue of being my _only_ followers, aren’t they? And they’ll typically dance in my honor. I’m certain a few can be taught. Is that sufficient?”

 

Hijiri nodded approvingly. “It’s a start, but what is a dance without music?” She waved an expansive hand. “We are fortunate to have one of Gensokyo’s most listened to songstresses as an apprentice.” Technically not a lie. “Even the Child of Miare praises her music regularly.” Surprisingly not a lie. “She and her friend would be thrilled to write you a song to go along with the dance.” Definitely not a lie. “How does that sound, Lady Matara?”

 

Okina drummed her fingers on the desk, staring intently at Hijiri. Ah, that old long, searching stare. A classic political maneuver, but Hijiri knew how to deal with it: let it search. It’s not like Hijiri was the one with secrets.

 

“Adequate,” said Okina eventually, sitting back. “I get new praises sung to me, those two reprobates get out of my hair while teaching yours, and you gain manifold new visitors to your temple. Are we in agreeance, Sister?”

 

“Certainly,” said Hijiri. She stood. “No misunderstandings whatsoever.”

 

She strode to the office’s door, which she opened, and, with apparent surprise, said, “Ah, Apprentice Jo’on, taking a small break from cleaning the floors, no doubt.”

 

The apprentice straightened herself up with a celerity Hijiri found impressive and offered a smile of radiant innocence Hijiri did not.

 

“You bet, Sister,” said Jo’on. “I was just sitting silently in the hallway with my ear pressed against your door. What else could I _possibly_ be doing?”

 

“What indeed,” agreed Hijiri. “While you are _clearly_ very busy, I must ask that you take time out of your highly demanding schedule, which, I will remind you for no reason in particular, can very easily grow in size for any reason, again, for no reason in particular, to aid me in an infinitesimal task.”

 

Jo’on, who understood the most vital aspect of running a con was recognizing when it had gone mammary glands up, endeavored to look very cooperative.

 

“Yeah, sure. What’s up?”

 

“Would you be so kind as to escort our honored guest to see Kyouko and inform her they are to create a song together?”

 

The succeeding events only served to increase Okina’s suspicion.

 

First, there was the way Jo’on’s mouth hung open for a fraction of a second longer than necessary. Second was the way she looked from Okina to Hijiri, back to Okina. Then the daybreak of revelation rising on her face. Oh, and after she beckoned Okina to follow, it did not escape Okina’s notice that there was something decidedly off about the apprentice’s tone of voice when she burst into maniacal laughter.

 

Okina cast a glance back at Hijiri, who was still wearing the same smile she had been for the past several minutes. Hijiri waved a convivial farewell before stepping back into the office.

 

There, she eased herself delicately into her chair, folded her hands in her lap, closed her eyes, and waited…

 

“ ** _REALLY!?_** ”

 

...for the eager echo to reverberate excitedly throughout the temple’s woodwork.

 

It could have easily have been the resulting tinnitus, but Hijiri was certain a livid moan, not quite as loud, but almost, followed the sonic shockwave. It had an unmistakable secret, backdoor quality to it.

 

Here, in private, she allowed a small, smug smirk.

 

Politics was sometimes its own reward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This prompt was brought to us by algaenymph!
> 
> My Tumblr: https://clockworksampi.tumblr.com
> 
> Rules for submitting prompts: https://clockworksampi.tumblr.com/post/169889843217/touhou-prompts
> 
> So here’s something I expect to get comments on: I know that character’s given name is Byakuren, I know that. But in the halls of my mind, she is called Hijiri. I don’t know why, I couldn’t tell you. My best guess is that when I was first learning the names of every Touhou character, I looked at ‘Byakuren’ and went, “Yeah, no way am I going to try and pronounce that. ‘Hijiri,’ I can do.”
> 
> Don’t forget to read the rules before submitting a prompt!


	2. Mai & Satono, Something Wicked

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Touhou Project and all related trademarks are the property of Team Shanghai Alice. Please support the official products in every capacity.

There were different types of darkness in this world.

 

There was darkness that was bright; the kind you get on a new moon, light and silvery. The darkness that wanted to guide you, and did so with such efficacy, you became blinded to the shadows it so painstakingly hid.

 

There was the darkness that was so purple, it became black. A void that could hide anything, and, for all you know, did. It made no secret that things were lurking in the gaps between your perception and reveled in the falter it was placing of your step.

 

Then – Mai once more thrust out their paper lantern, succeeding only in making a crow fly off – there was the darkness Mai and Satono waded through that two in the morning.

 

This was the darkness that made youkai. The darkness that preyed upon something primordial in the human soul. The darkness that made the hair on your neck stand rigid with dread. The darkness that, no matter how far up against the wall you were, there was always something wicked at your back. And you would turn around to find, in one crystalized moment of terror, that there had never been anything there.

 

Satono patted Mai on the shoulder and motioned it was time they got back to their patrol.

 

They crept forward, keeping their ofuda at the ready. The strips of paper and ink were lethal to youkai, and Mai and Satono had lethal aim, even in this murk. No one came close to Mai’s skill in zigzagging a talisman down the range, and the instructors had to stand back in amazement whenever Satono stepped up; quite a way back, as a matter of fact. Once, she nailed someone forty meters away, directly behind her.

 

Between them was some talent in dancing and divine communion, but nothing of significant note.

 

Mai and Satono were not shrine maidens, not yet anyway. They had no family name; if it came down to it, a given name was most of what they _did_ have to their name. The promise of more was what drew the scrappiest pair at the orphanage to present themselves to the _de facto_ governor, cultural preservationist, and head of the wealthiest family in the area, the Child of Miare, Hieda no Aya, to be potential shrine maidens. Heavens knew the local government could use all the recruits they could get their hands on. Youkai have been positively chewing through shrine maidens lately. Most didn’t have the courtesy to spit them back out, either.

 

And now they were teenagers, which meant real-world experience, which meant night patrols through the surrounding settlements.

 

Mai held the lantern aloft, lighting up an alleyway. A terrible winged beast was illuminated. Mai and Satono watched the crow fly off placidly.

 

“Lots of crows out tonight,” said Satono. “And they’re agitated, too. Could be baleful portent of things to come.”

 

Mai nudged her in the ribs. “Maybe there’s a murder somewhere, eh? Eh?”

 

A sound escaped Satono’s throat before she walked away. It sounded like a baby lemur dying due to having its brain shut down after hearing an implausibly appalling play on words.

 

Grinning, Mai followed her down the street.

 

No, they might not have been the best potential Shrine Maidens, but they did have the highest regarded quality of any shrine maiden: No one would miss them.

 

That is, no one except each other. Mai and Satono had very little in life, but to the ends of this world and into the next, Mai had Satono, and Satono had Mai.

 

And nothing would change that.

 

As they moved to the village exterior, Mai cleared her throat and said: “So, continuing our conversation from dinner-”

 

“Mai,” said Satono, in her ‘not now, Mai’ tone.

 

“You’re doing your ‘not now, Mai’ tone again.”

 

“That’s because there’s no talking during patrol.”

 

“Oh, come on! There’s no youkai here.” Mai hopped over a pothole in the road. “There’s _never_ any youkai in the village. And this is important!”

 

“It’s really not.”

 

“It could save hundreds of lives!” said Mai, holding the lantern up as Satono carefully stepped around the same pothole.

 

She looked Mai square in the eyes. “Mai, you’re my best friend. And, as your friend, I am compelled to inform you when you have awful ideas.”

 

“Psh. You said the same thing about the party favors I made for Lady Hieda’s birthday, and look were that landed us!”

 

“You mean prison?”

 

“ _Holding_ , Satono,” said Mai reproachfully, and set off down the street with a bounce. “Two different things.”

 

“You are aware the only reason she paid our bail was because there was no lasting damage to her cat?” said Satono, falling in step. “She called us ‘all-too dangerous.’”

 

“But she said it with a sparkle in her eye.”

 

“Are you certain it wasn’t the conniption she was having?”

 

“Hypothetical conniptions notwithstanding, Lady Hieda seemed impressed when I presented my first draft.”

 

“She did?” said Satono, mostly shocked by the revelation that Mai had a concept for what a first draft was.

 

“You better believe it! Just watch, one day, this whole land will be using spell cards for defense.”

 

“Mai. No youkai is willingly going to handicap itself for the benefit of humans. You wouldn’t expect a fox to give a rodent a matchlock, now would you?”

 

“I guess not,” said Mai meekly. “I mean, how would a rodent operate a rifle with no thumbs for starters?”

 

“Exactly my point. And who’s supposed to enforce these rules in the first place? Who are the youkai going to be so terrified of they’d follow along blindly?”

 

“And where would a fox even get a matchlock? They don’t typically wander into cities.”

 

“And it _would_ be fear. Sharing sake with their jailor over the cherry blossoms isn’t something youkai are going to do.”

 

“Come to think of it, if a fox were to go into a city, it would probably be a kitsune, and could therefor use magic to make the rifle suitable for mouse or rat paws…”

 

“ _Mai._ ” It was more a sigh than a word. “My point was not to be taken literally. I was endeavoring to convey that the only place your spell cards would work is a wonderland, a dream, somewhere completely cut off from reality. Here, we’re at the gate. We can talk about this later, okay?”

 

Mai pouted and folded her arms but took up position on the other side of the village’s gate.

 

Having confirmed the absence of youkai in the village proper, it was now the shrine maidens in training’s time to guard the outer wall to make sure it stayed that way.

 

Well, what was _called_ a wall at any rate. It said: ‘This is where _we_ belong, no youkai allowed, so get back, ancient flesh-eating horror from beyond! Shame on you!’ It could probably stop fairies, who hadn’t quite figured out one could fly to get _over_ objects, but to any youkai with determination and strength, it was little more than wood and a prayer. Satono had heard legends of truly horrible youkai; a demon monk who placed youkai salvation above that of humans’, a lunar sage capable of brewing immortality on a whim, an evil spirit that sparked such fear in the hearts of mortals, it was all but guaranteed it would someday return, never mind its public exorcism by a renowned chief priest. Any one of them coming to this village was spell its doom.

 

Talk about who enforces rules all day, but Satono knew the truth. Shrine maidens didn’t enforce anything. They were an idea. They worked by making you _believe_ rules had to be followed. True order came from always feeling the shrine maiden of your mind always breathing down your back, daring you to go beyond the barrier. The second youkai figured out a shrine maiden was just as squishy as any other human, it was all over. Maintaining a barrier of illusion was a shrine maiden’s most critical duty.

 

Something shook Satono awake from a sleep she didn’t know she was having.

 

She opened her eyes and looked up into Mai’s.

 

“Ah. Sorry about that. Thanks for-” Satono halted mid-stretch. Her first thought was that sunrise had come, but she didn’t remember the dawn being this pink-green in color.

 

Then she saw the massive orb of magic on the horizon.

 

It was nothing short of titanic. It had to have been a fair jog away, and yet it outshone the moon. The stars disappeared in its light. Something wicked this was coming.

 

The ball was, in fact, the second thing she noticed. The first was: _Why does Mai look scared?_

 

The third thing she noticed, as she stared open mouthed at the ball, was that Mai was staring at _her_ worriedly, but with an air of readiness. They both knew Satono was better at not rushing head first into her death.

 

Satono took a breath before speaking. She couldn’t panic in front of Mai.

 

“Okay,” she said. “Just so we’re on the same page, that’s the strongest swell of magic we’ve ever seen.”

 

Mai nodded.

 

“Right, right.” Satono tried to gather her thoughts among the warm cotton of sleep deprivation. “First…first, we kill the lantern. We scout out that…whatever, and do it quietly, _extremely_ quietly, find out what we’re up against, and report it to Lady Hieda. We can’t go against whatever is causing that. We’re not shrine maidens yet, but we still have a duty to these people. No human dies today.”

 

Mai glanced up at the towering arcane amalgamation before blowing out the light.

 

“So what do you think the over-under is on a benevolent god intervening to save two would-be shrine maidens?”

 

\-----

 

They kept low on their approach, sticking to brush and slinking on the ground. Flight was completely out of the question. The night may have been darker than pitch, but even being a slightly darker shadow being outlined against the eternal tenebrosity of space was a handy way to later get oneself outlined in chalk.

 

The massive light was nearly upon when it abruptly vanished so quickly it caught the night unawares.

 

Mai and Satono went perfectly still in the underbrush at the edge of what looked like an empty field while their eyes adjusted to the crepuscule. Just because the thing was no longer in front of them didn’t mean it was gone. Eventually, they ventured a peak out of the arboreal bunker and saw what looked remarkably like…

 

“Tengu,” whispered Satono. “A whole mass murder of them.”

 

“And it looks like something’s killed them, too,” added Mai.

 

There must have been well over a hundred tengu scattered across the plain, all contorted in highly interesting ways.

 

This was hardly the first time they had seen dead bodies. Funerial rites were among the first things taught to shrine maidens looking to specialize in youkai extermination. It was there the administrators found out who had the guts to stare down death, and who threw up when handed the jar which contained a former colleague.

 

“Come on. Lady Hieda needs to know about this.”

 

“Hold on, Satono.” Mai squinted further. “Is that… _bamboo_ and _myōuga_ growing out of a few of them?”

 

“I don’t know. Does that matter-”

 

And a voice, as cold and sharp as a thrown dagger, issued over the field of desolation.

 

“Well isn’t this grand,” it spat. “Cull the tengu that won’t play along with the plan she said. It’s part of what you do, she said. There should be no problems, right? Oh, yes, Yakumo, no issues here; just that your calculations of how many tengu there would be was off by a factor of seven!”

 

The voice was distinctly female, and the speaker, both Mai and Satono were certain, had not been present in the field fifteen seconds ago. A tall shadow now strode imperious strides amidst the tengu. Mai and Satono watched her stomp to the epicenter and pull out two pristine herbaceous-looking items from the gnarled bodies.

 

The shadow went on, icier than before: “And now my servants are dead. Used the last of their life force to fulfil their master’s will, as any servant should, in fairness. But they were the ones who knew the steps for your Barrier ritual routine. Where am I supposed to find new servants on such short notice, Yakumo? Not only that but breakfast is in a few hours! Am I expected to lower myself to such a degree as to make my own meal? What blasphemy - _Hmm?_ ” Then she paused, as if hearing something on the edge of hearing.

 

Mai and Satono held their breath.

 

The shadow turned towards them. Her tone morphed into the cloying, envenomed tone of the spider talking down to the flies.

 

“Hel _lo_ there. Do forgive my rambling, I wasn’t aware I had company.”

 

When neither of them made an attempt to move, the shadow continued:

 

“You need not be afraid, little ones, I mean you no harm. I wish only to speak to you. Please, you may come to me without fear in your hearts.”

 

Mai and Satono glanced at each other, wondering how her tongue had not rotted under the enormity of this lie.

 

Impatience spiked in the shadow’s voice.

 

“If you will not come to me under your own power, I am more than happy for you to come to me under _my_ power.”

 

Mai leaned over and whispered: “On the count of three we scatter and make a break for the village.” Satono nodded in the darkness.

 

“One…”

 

“Very well. Have it your way.”

 

“Two…”

 

The shadow snapped her fingers. It was loud; almost supernaturally loud.

 

“Th-!”

 

Beneath them, the earth opened, and slammed shut.

 

Mai and Satono fell.

 

Somewhere else, the sky opened, and slammed shut.

 

Mai and Satono crashed on something disturbingly soft.

 

The shadow’s voice, which was now directly over them, said, exasperatedly: “The ground’s back door to the sky is not a taxing one to open, but do refrain from making me expend the energy in the future and just come when call, yes? Now get up, let’s have a look at you.”

 

Mai and Satono staggered up on uneven footing. Collectively, they tried not to think about what they were standing on, but found this difficult. They were no longer where they had been a second earlier. Now they stood in the center of the field. A pair of eyes, a deep, predatory amber in color, looked back and forth between them. They were the only part of the shadow they could make out, because they glowed.

 

It was said that eyes were the window to the soul. But these eyes were beyond peaking in the girls’ windows. They had kicked open the back door to their souls, propped their feet on the furniture, and took long glances at any correspondence that so happened to be laying out. This must have been the case, for both girls now felt a chilly felling howling through their souls.

 

Satono began trembling.

 

“W-w-what d-do yo-o-ou w-w-w-want?”

 

“Certainly above average spiritual power…” the shadow had been murmuring. “Hm? Oh! Well, I am servantless at the moment.” The shadow said it as if it explained everything.

 

Trapped by a magic creature, wielding ofuda best suited for a surprise attack, and with a building doubt that they would make it very far if they bolted, Satono did the only thing she could think to do: Pray to any god who would listen for sanctuary.

 

“I wouldn’t worry about that,” said the shadow.

 

“H-huh?”

 

The shadow scoffed. “Don’t ‘huh’ me, girl. When you pray to any god who would listen, don’t act all surprised when one does.”

 

“Look, you can take me for…whatever it is. I won’t put up a fight. Just let Mai go.” Satono had meant for it to come out as a bold declaration, as opposed to the whimper it exited her mouth as.

 

“Loyalty!” said the shadow gleefully. “And a powerful sense of sacrifice. Always good to have; always good.”

 

“We’re shrine maidens in training,” Mai chimed in, shakily. “People will come looking for us.”

 

“Experience as well! Definitely a good thing to have. Yours will be inherited after the programing and operational patches set in. You will still be keeping the peace, albeit from, shall we say, behind closed doors-”

 

An echo of terror and outrage shredded across the battlefield as Mai screamed and threw her ofuda.

 

In the split-second their flight took, an illuminated outline of a door was traced in the stygian nothingness. The ofuda soared into it’s waiting maw before it clicked shut and vanished.

 

Mai stood staring in petrified horror.

 

“Shows initiative, too,” said the shadow without missing a beat. “That counts.” She gave a proprietorial sigh. “I suppose you two will do adequately. Don’t be surprised when your programing starts to falter in a few hundred years. Normally, I prefer to run tests to find servants with optimal imprint rates. But desperate times and all that. Now then.” She held up her hands, which were enclosed around the two fresh plants. “Do either of you have a preference? Speak up now; you won’t get to change later. Teireida in charge of lifeforce?” The myōuga sprig in her right radiated a vivacious pink. “Or Nishida in charge of spirit?” The bamboo pole in her left twinkled in a sharp green. “You can have your pick of either.”

 

Instinctively, Mai stepped in front of Satono. “And what if we refuse?”

 

The light from the plants shone upon the most terrible smile either girl had ever seen in her life.

 

“Oh,” cooed the Secret God, Matara. “You thought you had a choice. That’s _adorable_.”

 

Tendrils of magic lashed out from the flora at the girls.

 

Their bodies were seized.

 

Their minds were clamped.

 

Their souls were crushed.

 

They screamed.

 

Then the world became bright.

 

Then the world became simple.

 

\-----

 

“Heheh. A- _door_ -able. How can one god be so brilliant? I should really be writing these down.”

 

\-----

 

Hours later, Mai Teireida and Satono Nishida awoke to the first day of the rest of their, for want of a better term, lives, and without a word between each other, put on their uniforms, strode directly to the kitchen, and happily set about making their Master her favorite breakfast, for she had had a trying night and their Master deserved happiness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This prompt was brought to us by rabbiteclair!
> 
> My Tumblr: https://clockworksampi.tumblr.com
> 
> Fun Facts: The description of darknesses at the beginning are stealth descriptions of Gensokyo’s sages. First one to match each description to its appropriate sage gets a free internet high-five.
> 
> You ever wonder what Mai and Satono did to get to be Okina’s servants? If we assume Hidden Star is standard to Okina’s tests, and Marisa passed it, does that mean Mai and Satono once upon a time defeated EX Okina?
> 
> Rules for submitting prompts: https://clockworksampi.tumblr.com/post/169889843217/touhou-prompts


	3. Doremy & Shion, Do Not Disturb

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Touhou Project and all related trademarks are the property of Team Shanghai Alice. Please support the official products in every capacity.
> 
> WARNING: This chapter of fan fiction contains trace amounts of Shion X Tenshi. Do not consume if allergic.

Shion hovered two inches above the main road of Gensokyo’s human village as she made her way down it, owing to both her state of perpetual shoelessness, and the fact that she had tried walking once and discovered it just wasn’t for her.

 

Shion Yorigami was a god. She was an all-knowing god enough to know that speediest way to money was through someone else. She was an omni-present god, especially if it was at a party she hadn’t been invited to. The only godly art she couldn’t quite grasp was creation of life, only because she had discovered it was infinitely easier to wait for someone else to get a life to live for her.

 

One thing she was not was a god who listened to her followers, mostly because she didn’t have any, but even if she managed to scrape a few together, she had her own problems, and she heard enough of other people’s distress in the material plane; typically something involving the tune of: ‘Those were the ones, officer.’

 

Shion always thought the whole faithful-deity dynamic sounded dreadful. What if you were asleep when they prayed to you? You couldn’t very well hang a ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign on your brain. She didn’t want to start hearing voices in her head; her stomach complained to her enough as is. Once more, Shion felt glad no one had ever put any faith in her.

 

Besides, the policy of the Yorigami gods was to put more stock in profits than prophets.

 

She navigated down an offshoot road, floating into the setting sun. It was completely deserted. People got home early in Gensokyo. The things in the night here gave out the types of bumps you didn’t get up from.

 

About four hours ago she and her companion nearing three weeks now, Tenshi Hinanawi, had checked into a local inn. The proprietor had been all too happy for the patronage of both a celestial and a deity. In particular, he had been so grateful when Tenshi offered him protection from earthquakes, like the one that had spontaneously and without any outward input whatsoever rumbled when she said those words, that he let them stay for free.

 

Tenshi had opted to go to bed early, citing not sleeping for five days, leaving Shion to rustle up dinner on her own, and after sitting around a back alley inconspicuously for two hours, she had concentrated enough misfortunate energy in one area for her get it.

 

The man had looked average enough. He had most likely just gotten off whatever strenuous work he engaged in nine hours a day, six days a week. Possibly he had a family waiting for him at wherever his destination was. He probably even paid his taxes. Whatever his reasons were for stepping into that vacant lot at that time of day, he most certainly didn’t deserve what had happened to him.

 

The inn she and Tenshi were staying at came into view.

 

It had begun with the ever-classic abandoned rake which, when the teeth were carelessly stepped on, the remainder of the rake’s shaft rocketed up between-the-eyesward. Thusly smacked, the man had staggered backwards, directly onto an abandoned roller skate. Shion couldn’t repress a wince at the sound of his back meeting earth. It was just as the man had returned to his feet that an ice fairy wandered by, seemingly unconcerned that this was the _human_ village, and, in an effort to cheer the injured man up, stuffed a frozen frog down his pants before flying away. The shock of the frost sent him jumping right back onto his bottom, allowing gravity and pressure the privilege of painting the backside of his trousers a fresco of damp greens and moist browns. As he struggled to once again find his footing, a rodent scurried out of the shadows, unslung the tiniest flintlock rifle Shion had seen, took aim at the man, and fired at a particular piece of anatomy that Shion, as a woman, didn’t have the knowledge to know how it felt, sending the man collapsing into unconsciousness.

 

Shion had decided to take her leave at that point, before anything truly misfortunate happened to the man on top of also having his wallet stolen.

 

A wallet that, it turned out, contained just enough capital for a medium miso soup, a side of rice, and seventeen relatively complimentary glasses of water.

 

She was in the inn’s threshold when she heard the unmistakable sound of the walls of dreams and realities divaricating. It went _pop!_

 

“Ah, Miss Yorigami! Forgive me, do, but I appear to have been a bit off, and maybe you can aid me, if you have the time, of course. I would hate to impose.”

 

The voice was a breathy, melodic sort of voice, such as might be employed in a lullaby, with cheery and whimsical intonations weaved in, inviting one into a world beyond their wildest dreams, but polite enough to understand if here was where you felt comfortable. Shion had heard that voice before, in her nightmares.

 

She turned, and, sure enough, stood Doremy Sweet, Eater and Shepard of Dreams, dressed as any would expect a baku to: a black and white dress and long red night cap. A night cap which contained hair _longer_ and _bluer_ than Shion’s own.

 

But this wasn’t the only reason the dream eater curled Shion’s toes. There was this…quirk Doremy had. No matter what she was doing, her mouth tended to rest in an upturned state, fluctuating between smile and smirk, and this combined with her eyes – near-constantly in a dreamy, half-lidded stare – to give the impression that she knew more about your deepest, darkest dreams than you. Which she did.

 

Doremy was giving Shion such a wry look.

 

“Uh. Maybe,” said Shion. “What d’ya need?”

 

“Oh, marvelous!” Doremy opened her ever-present book and began thumbing through it. “I was looking for the eldest daughter of the Hinanawi, but her thoughts these days are filled with nothing but-” She stopped at a page, tapped her finger on something, and glanced back at Shion. Her smirk deepened.

 

The book snapped shut.

 

“Suffice to say that I’m having difficulty locating her via thoughts and dreams. I understand you’ve been traveling with her. Would you happen to know her current location?”

 

Shion gestured back to the inn.

 

“Our room, probably? Said she was going to bed a while ago.”

 

“Really? How very unusual. I couldn’t find in the Dream World. Ah, unless she’s staring at the ceiling, not sleeping. That happens quite often with Miss Hinanawi, you know. I have a message from her father.”

 

“Okay,” said Shion.

 

“Her father has had me checking in on her dreams for a while now. I frequently contract my talents out. The Celestials, Lunarians, and Catfish are some of my best customers.”

 

“Hmm,” said Shion, who didn’t recall asking.

 

There was a subtle shifting of gears in Doremey’s voice, one that vaguely brought to Shion’s mind images of her sister.

 

“Whether it’s acting as a dream private investigator, maintaining a civilization in a reverie, or keeping in an ancient aqueous overlord in nightmare stasis, you need look no further than Doremy Sweet.”

 

“Ah,” said Shion, turning to gaze at the clouds. The setting sun refracted off them gorgeously.

 

“Act now and receive a thirty-day free trial of the critically acclaimed Sweet Sleep Pillow TM. Seven out of eight catfish rave: _blub blubbub blubel blub_.”

 

“I see,” said Shion, head pointed ninety degrees up.

 

Doremy’s expression deflated slightly, but buoyed back to her default smile almost immediately.

 

“Regardless, I am placed at somewhat of an impasse. I don’t want to disturb anyone sleeping or attempting to sleep while on the physical plane, call it professional standards, but I have been commissioned to deliver this message and report back to Lord Nai with quite the time table.” Doremy snapped her fingers. “Aha! Perhaps you can assist me once more, Miss Yorigami.”

 

Upon hearing something that could pertain to her, Shion rolled her head back on Doremy.

 

“Seeing as how what Lord Nai wants concerns you, you’ll probably hear it from Tenshi anyway, so if I give you the message, I can trust you to give it to Tenshi, yes?”

 

Shion shuffled her feet and hid behind her bangs.

 

“I might…” she mumbled.

 

Without a blink, Doremy rolled her hand, then flicked Shion the gleaming copper coin that appeared in it.

 

“I can trust you to give it to Tenshi, yes?” said Doremy emphatically.

 

Shion caught the coin and stowed it in her hoodie pocket with a glittering grin. “You sure can.”

 

Boy howdy, this day was nothing short of magnificent! Not only did Shion get to eat three times today _and_ acquired a bed not underlined by dirt or concrete, but she secured a _whole_ _500-yen_ coin to do with as she pleased! Her bad luck was finally turning around. Nothing could bring her down now!

 

“So, in Lord Nai’s exact words-”

 

Fifty seconds later found Doremy gingerly, if awkwardly, ushered a bawling Shion into the inn reception.

 

It was unsurprisingly empty, to Doremy’s relief. Inns in Gensokyo didn’t require much in the way of work or personnel hours, as the land itself didn’t get many outside visitors, and the ones that did were most often greeted warmly by its more phantasmal inhabitants and hustled off to their homes, so they could make the fresh humans dinner.

 

A desperate search found a small table ringed by some cushions. Doremy sat the both of them down. Shion wilted her entire upper body over it. Even her bow seemed droopier than usual.

 

“I’ll never see Tenshi again!” she wailed.

 

“There’s no cause to think that,” said Dormey softly. She wouldn’t dream of leaving Shion in this state, time quota or no. Baku becoming numb to the plights of others was how civilizations collapsed. “Lord Nai only wants-”

 

“I know what you said. Tenshi’s told me all about her father and how his parents had him out of wedlock. I’ll go up there, and I’ll make a fool of myself, and the celestials are going to laugh at me, and I’ll never see Tenshi again!” Shion took out an unpaid bill and blew her nose on it. “It’s just my luck! I should’ve known it was too good to last. Tenshi’s an endless spring of good fortune, but when did I start thinking I was one, too? It was never not going to crash around me. A poverty god will always be a poverty god. I’ll be alone and poor until the day I run out of faith and evaporate!”

 

“Now, now. What about your sister…” Doremy hesitated. It wasn’t like her to forget a name. “Jo’on? Jyoon? You won’t be alone with her.”

 

Shion snorted. “She’s my sister. She doesn’t count.” She rubbed her eyes. “What a nightma-” She gasped and turned to Doremy, who smiled helpfully.

 

“I’m dreaming right now, aren’t I?”

 

“But of course,” said Doremy.

 

“Yes! I knew it! But…you can go into dreams.”

 

“This is true.”

 

“Which means, even if this is a dream, you’re still real.”

 

“Last I check I was, yes.”

 

“And Tenshi’s dad probably told you to tell Tenshi the thing, anyway.”

 

“This is also true.”

 

“Oh…” Shion slunk heavily with the face of one who has discovered, once again, the light at the end of the tunnel to be a train.

 

“It was a nice dream while it lasted.” Doremy patted her shoulder. “How would you like another?”

 

“Wha?”

 

Doremy looked down at poor Shion, who had the same posture, disposition, and overall smell as a flower in wilt and winked.

 

“You’re not the deus ex-girlfriend yet, Miss Yorigami.”

 

She placed her book on the table and opened it seemingly at random. For a split second, Shion’s eyes tasted purple, while her tongue heard moonlight and her ears smelled a distant underwater violin.

 

Shion blinked.

 

Reality snapped back.

 

“You are a higher being, so you can look at my dream journal with no lasting side effects.” Doremy slid the book over. “These are Tenshi’s dreams from two months ago. What trends do you notice?”

 

Merely attempting to read the six-dimensional writing caused Shion’s eyes to cross. There were more words on the pages than should have been physically possible. And they writhed. And myriad other words appeared and disappeared at random. There was the impression of thousands of small, moving images sharing metaphysical space with the letters. Attempting to read the words and watch the pictures at the same time caused Shion’s teeth to ache and her hair to itch.

 

Only once this sensation reached a critical spike did her inner divine eye spark to life, and, like a miracle, it all became legible.

 

“Trends, trends…umm…” She skimmed across the records. “I dunno…‘Tenshi dreamed of remaking the land in her image…Tenshi dreamed she was the One Light of the Universe…dreamed of getting revenge on one Iku Nagae for sending her to bed without dessert.’” She looked back up. “I dunno. Sounds like what I remember of Tenshi’s dream self.”

 

“Correct! It’s behavior typical of Tenshi’s dream self _as you remember_. However, if we were to-” Doremy flipped two pages over and pointed to a small collection of words. “These are Tenshi’s dreams from the past two weeks. What do you notice?”

 

Shion refocused on the book. The notions here…they felt…like Shion had seen them before? They had an entirely different feeling than the previous dreams. There was less content, but between the lines held so much more. These were dreams of…

 

Shion squinted.

 

But that couldn’t be right. These were dreams of…

 

“‘Tenshi dreamed of making flower crowns with one Shion Yorigami,’” came Doremy’s voice from far off. “Lord Nai had trouble translating that one, too. The next one is, ‘Dreamed about leveling a continent and giving it to one Shion Yorigami as a gift.’ Lord Nai had less trouble with that one.”

 

“You mean…Tenshi dreams about me? Us?”

 

“Almost exclusively as of late.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Well, if I didn’t have access to her consciousness, and I do,” Doremy gathered her book, “I would wager it was because she likes you.”

 

Shion stared blankly at the table top.

 

“Are you alright, Miss Yorigami?”

 

Shion did not respond.

 

Doremy snapped her fingers in front of Shion’s face.

 

Shion did not react.

 

Doremy played an improvised trumpet solo in G-major.

 

Shion made no motion to applaud.

 

Doremy tapped the side of her temple with the trumpet before dismissing it back to the dream from wince it came and smirking her Smirk.

 

“Tell me,” she said, “do you like Tenshi?”

 

It was as if Shion’s ‘Off’ lever had been jerked it ‘On.’ She lit up and began sputtering.

 

“Of course I do!” she babbled. “She does what she wants and doesn’t take any anything from anyone. Unless she does take something. Then she takes it _all_. She’s funny, and cool, and interesting. And she thinks _I’m_ interesting! And no one’s ever thought I was interesting before…” She trailed off as she took notice of the Smirk.

 

“You have conviction, Miss Yorigami. You and Tenshi both.” Doremy stood. “More than that, you share the most powerful thing known to fantasy. A dream is a great treasure. Allow nothing to take it from you. You’re going to do splendidly in Bhava-Agra. Pay no mind to the celestials and their flawless clothing.”

 

Shion brightened. “I can do that! I’m the best there is at not paying.”

 

“That’s the spirit!” Doremy spun to the door. “And now, I must report back to Lord Nai for my weekly payment. Good night.”

 

“Uh. Wait-”

 

“Hm?” Doremy turned back. “Yes?”

 

“Well, I wanted to ask, when am I going to wake up?”

 

A look of genuine confusion crossed the baku’s face.

 

“Wake up? Whatever do you mean?”

 

“You know. Stop dreaming.” Shion was beginning to feel slightly foolish. “It’s just that I don’t remember coming back to the inn, which means I feel asleep somewhere on the streets again. And I’ll get robbed for all I’m worth sleeping in the streets. It’s not that much.”

 

“Miss Yorigami, what _are_ you talking about?”

 

“You said I was dreaming!”

 

“Ah,” said Doremy, and the light of recognition dawned. “Perhaps I was not clear. You may not be asleep, but you are _always_ dreaming. It is that desire to better the world around oneself that separates the living from the alive. Hopes, and dreams, are the greatest things in all the universes, and I make it my business to not disturb them as much as I am able, eating only the ones completed or the nightmares. Hold on to your dreams, Miss Yorigami. The more you try, the more you may find them coming true. And dreams fulfilled are the sweetest of all.” Doremy licked her lips. “Take my word for it.”

 

She stared into Shion’s blank expression.

 

“Uh. Okay. So…when am I waking up?”

 

Doremy sighed and smiled her odd Smile. “Miss Yorigami, you are not sleeping. If you excuse me, I must be off.” She curtsied as the air opened – Shion glimpsed the castle that domineered over the dreamlands – and shut around her, as if she were never there. Which, for all Shion knew, she might not have.

 

Shion sat back, and began the lengthy process of processing the conversation.

 

What bizarre creatures, these baku.

 

Well, that was enough processing. Introspection was not chief among a crook’s favorite pastimes, lest they come down with a sudden attack of morality, such as the one which had tragically taken Shion’s little sister before her time.

 

Now Shion just had to come up with a smooth way to bring up to Tenshi over breakfast that her father said, quote:

 

‘The festival is almost complete, which means my daughter’s exile is almost up. Since you’re here, dream devourer, I would gladly pay you more than the usual amount if you deliver to her a message. Please tell her that she is free to return to Bhava-Agra, and she is more than welcome to bring that god along, too. I am eager to welcome into house Hinanawi anyone who can bring my daughter down to earth. And get back by tonight if you can; we need to know exactly how many people are going to be in attendance for seating and catering purposes.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This prompt was brought to us by misteltein!
> 
> My Tumblr: https://clockworksampi.tumblr.com
> 
> Looking back on it, I am unsatisfied with how I portrayed Doremy here. We don’t know much about her personality or what her job as manager of the dream world, so I took one of the few things we do know, her selling pillows on the side, to try to give her a bit of an entrepreneurial spin. I don’t really think it ended up working. And there’s that I feel she cares too much about dreams in this for a dream eater. Oh well. Lessons for next time.
> 
> Yes, prompts can still be submitted, so please, do so to your heart’s content. Rules here: https://clockworksampi.tumblr.com/post/169889843217/touhou-prompts


	4. Reimu & Aunn, Kindness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Touhou Project and all related trademarks are the property of Team Shanghai Alice. Please support the official products in every capacity.
> 
> This chapter takes place in that very specific timeframe only mentioned at the end of that one Hakurei Land issue of Wild and Horned Hermit, the one that I don’t remember the number of off the top of my head, where Aunn comes back with Moriya Shrine’s account book and convinces everyone to work harder, and Reimu does, but stops when Sanae compliments her. Well, this is in in that ‘Reimu works hard’ period.

The sky was the eternal fantasy, the earth, the toils done to achieve it. The act of Ascension was the act of distancing oneself from reality.

 

Flying was forbidden in the human village. Observing this was a small kindness, but one Reimu Hakurei, Shrine Maiden of Paradise, made it a point of observing, even it meant walking some extra three-hundred meters. She never gotten on with other humans, but the day the Hakurei Shrine Maiden ceased seeing humans as her kind was a grim day.

 

She readjusted the groceries on her arms before she kicked off.

 

Reimu couldn’t get over it. Money was flowing into the Hakurei Shrine, a wealth tributary she had assumed was long dried up, but tributing the people were. Many could be held responsible for this turnaround. Some of it was Marisa, a lot of credit went to Kasen, but mostly Reimu had only Aunn to thank. After all, was she not the one who brought Moriya’s balancing book back? Did Kasen not place her hand upon her shoulder and declared with unabashed confidence to ‘do whatever she says!’

 

And Reimu had. She tripled her workload. Talismans and rituals were ferociously formed. Festival planning was attacked with abandon. Advertisements were delicately designed and placed in strategic points around the village. And who would’ve guessed? Her hard work had actually been paid in kind. Reimu was used to it being paid in apathy.

 

Plus, the meals she got to eat! She could afford to really spend some money. Now, she only ate dandelions and rice every _other_ day! Ha! Let’s see Kochiya try calling her ‘impoverished’ now!

 

The flight to the Shrine wasn’t a long one; tantamount to one high, slow leap. No sooner than Reimu touching down on flagstones did a ball of green fluff and indefatigable eagerness blast out from the house and skid to a halt before her.

 

“Ah! Miss, you’re back! It’s me, Aunn Komano, guardian of the Hakurei Shrine!” She looked up at Reimu, eyes sparkling like gems. “Un!”

 

“Yes, Aunn. As you inform me every time I come back.”

 

Reimu was no stranger to freeloaders at her Shrine. She had seen all kinds; freeloaders that lived in dollhouses, freeloaders that brought their own booze, freeloaders that were gods, but this freeloader continued to baffle her. Against all definitions of a freeloader, she, if one can believe it, did _work around the Shrine_. Once, Reimu brought up her confusion to Kasen, who assured Reimu that this new addition was only attempting to help her. And, really, Reimu? Look at the girl. It’s doubtful she has a grand master plan of what she’s going to do five minutes from now.

 

Whatever her grand master plan may or may not be, Aunn didn’t drink Reimu’s sake, nor did she ask for payment or threaten the safety of the planet, which meant she, at minimum, was okay in Reimu’s book.

 

“I have guarded the premises thoroughly and with reckless abandon, and, as you can see, it is still standing,” said Aunn, pride radiating from every facet.

 

“I did see. What a change of pace.”

 

“I notice you’ve been out shopping, miss.”

 

“Yes, Aunn. I told you where I was going, remember?”

 

Aunn shuffled from one foot to the other. “Did you…happen to go by Suzunaan?” She gave a big, nervous smile, her komainu teeth shining in the sunlight. Some were an inch long and could triturate an intruder’s skull like paper-mâché.

 

“I’m giving Kosuzu a few more days to cool off. I doubt she’s actually mad, since I paid the fine, but it doesn’t hurt. Besides, we learned something from that.” Reimu looked at Aunn sternly. “ _Didn’t we?_ ”

 

“Yes,” sighed Aunn, miffed she had to repeat this _again_. “We learned that ‘throw the book at ‘em’ is only a figure of speech.”

 

“And?”

 

“The fairy under the shrine makes it warm in the winter, so she’s worth keeping around.”

 

“What else?”

 

“To only accept youkai exterminating advice from a responsible adult authority.”

 

“Mm-hm?”

 

“Which Miss Kirisame does not qualify as.”

 

Reimu made a ‘go on’ gesture.

 

“…because she spends all her time around mushrooms and fumes of dubious origin.”

 

The ‘go on’ gesture sped up.

 

“And because she’s only Gensokyo’s _second_ best exterminator.”

 

“I knew you were a fast learner,” said Reimu, satisfied. “The last thing we want is for the Hakurei Shrine to have a reputation of randomly attacking innocent youkai.”

 

“No, miss. We can’t have that.”

 

“And we’ve only got one book now, so we’ve got to make it last. No reading all willy-nilly.”

 

Reimu liked Aunn. It wasn’t that difficult, even for someone like Reimu. She saw in her all the traits she lacked: eager, enthusiastic, and oh so marketable. Marisa had once remarked that Aunn was solid as a rock, and, thinking about it, after Reimu attempted to break Marisa’s kneecaps for the horrendous pun, she had to admit the witch had a point. Everyone liked Aunn, another characteristic Reimu knew she wasn’t holding.

 

The girl was going to be the death of her, Reimu knew. Not literally; important to specify that when speaking of youkai. Kill her with kindness, maybe, and even then, she was doubtful. There’s dangerously cute, and there’s cutely dangerous; Aunn squarely being the former. What was Usami had once said? She’d buy a ‘plush’ of Aunn? Reimu wasn’t entirely sure what that was, but once she did, oh you better watch out Moriya! Thy gods be undone by plushes!

 

A weight on her arms pulled Reimu out of her god-slaying reverie. “Hey, Aunn, do you think you could help me put away these groceries?”

 

Or, meant to, at least.

 

By the time Reimu got to ‘think,’ Aunn had grabbed the bags, by ‘help,’ Aunn had already waddled her way into the Shrine living quarters, and when ‘groceries,’ came out to be listened by no one, Reimu could hear scraping from the Shrine kitchen.

 

Shrugging, Reimu entered the building herself, where she seated herself down at the central table, took the sales receipts from her voluminous sleeve, and pulled a small book and brush toward her.

 

Gensokyo was an illusory land, filled with illusory people dreaming illusory dreams. It made a distressing amount of sense that one of humankind’s most illusory of inventions would find its way to the gods-given land.

 

Hrumph. Money, get away.

 

Some was coming in now, at least. Yet she refused to allow it to encroach on who she was. One of the Hakurei Shrine Maiden’s most crucial jobs was keeping the Balance.

 

Reimu flipped open her checkbook and got to work.

 

How long had it been since the last major Incident? Months, now? Months since she felt that sear of wind and danmaku against her face. Months since she stared down an almighty force armed with only the yin-yang orbs and her wits, and prevailing against all logic. Without any cataclysmic developments, the bearer of the deific vehemence that was the Hakurei God spent the majority of her days drinking, eating, and sleeping.

 

It all felt so…ordinary. Reimu couldn’t remember a time she had been this happy.

 

The clacking of wooden sandals indicated Aunn’s approach. Reimu kept her eyes on her calculations but heard as the sound stopped at the edge of the table, then watched the table rattle as Aunn stepped onto it and crouched down just on the edge of Reimu’s vision.

 

Internally, Reimu sighed. Komainu were very precise about where and how they stood guard. She’d have to talk to Rinnosuke about making a pedestal for inside.

 

“Aunn, I’m a little busy calculating our funds. Can this wait?”

 

“Of course, miss!” came Aunn’s typical sunny tones, without an inkling to move.

 

Reimu forced herself not to think about Aunn’s stone-cold gaze weighing on her, but soon realized she had read the same receipt four times in four minutes. This was a battle she was going to lose. Aunn could be as patient as a statue. It took a unique kind of mind to enjoy sitting in one place all day and staring at nothing for hours on end, and Aunn was the gods’ gift to this exact art. If a competition was held with all the masterclasses in sitting in one place all day and staring at nothing for hours on end, Aunn wouldn’t even blink at the challenge.

 

“Alright, I suppose I can take a break. What did you wan-” Reimu stopped as her eyes trained upwards and saw what Aunn had clutched in her hands.

 

Oh. Right. She had forgotten about that matter of business.

 

Aunn held out the white and gold paper bag. “I finished putting everything away, but I’ve never seen something like this. Where would you like it, miss?”

 

“That’s for you, actually.”

 

“For me to decide?”

 

“No. What’s in that bag, I got for you to have.”

 

Aunn tilted her head at Reimu in a display of well-mannered incomprehension. Well, this was it, then. Reimu knew she wasn’t good at expressing kindness. It wasn’t an expression she used very often. Nonetheless, Aunn had deserved the attempt. There but for a lion-dog went Reimu.

 

“Er. Yeah. With the whole Hakurei Land – and I don’t use this word lightly – Hakurei Land debacle gone and forgotten _forever_ , everyone at the Shrine’s been putting in extra shifts. And, uh, I know there’s this candy shop in the human village, Kosuzu talks about it every now and then. And I walked by it while I was out, and I thought…er…so anyway. I didn’t know what you liked, so I got a small bag of peppermint sticks. They, uh, they reminded me of you. With the red and white and all.” Reimu was aware she was rambling, but a profound outside world quote imparted by one Sumireko Usami jumped to Reimu’s defense: If you’re going through self-induced public humiliation, keep going. “Um. I know I sort of…forgot you existed for like a solid month, but I want you to know that you are appreciated. You’re one of a kind, and I mean that.”

 

Something wet dropped from Aunn’s eye and splashed on the table.

 

Oh, _no_.

 

“Hey, if don’t like peppermint, I can always take it back. We can go together-”

 

“No, no. It’s not that.” Aunn took a steading breath. “You know, miss, back when I was a statue, when I would watch all your adventures, I always thought you were the coolest ever. There were so many…emotions, if you believe such things lie in a heart of stone. I gasped when you would get hit, cheered when you came out victorious. But you know what I felt most of all? Sadness, miss, sadness and fear. So often you were alone, and it broke me every time I couldn’t sit down next to you and tell you how much you matter, even if you felt otherwise. And I was so, so afraid that even if I did gain animacy that you would drive me out. I mean, the Hakurei Shrine Maiden, accepting help from a youkai? What kind of world would we be living in? And then, an act of god; I was given form and consciousness. Swimming in that sea of cherry blossoms was the happiest I’ve been in a long time. But you, miss, you came and attacked me on sight for no rhyme or reason. I could barely contain my excitement! You only do that to your best of friends. Even after the Secret God closed the door on my back, I was still myself, and you let me stay. It’s everything I ever wanted!”

 

Aunn rolled off the table and adoringly nuzzled herself into Reimu’s stomach.

 

“So please, miss, don’t feel obligated to spend money on me. You certainly need it more than I do!”

 

Reimu went to form a sentence, but her mind, the one that not only jumped, but leapt, bounded, and 300-meter dashed to conclusions, now halted her mouth. Did Aunn just…? No; there was less than no way. ‘Insulting’ and ‘Aunn Komano’ failed to align within Reimu’s psyche, just as did ‘social gathering’ and ‘sobriety.’ So she merely deadpanned: “Thank you for that, Aunn.”

 

“Besides,” from her vantage point on Reimu’s lap, Aunn held up a peppermint stick for inspection. “I think they remind me more of you.”

 

Reimu watched as Aunn chomped its head off with no apparent effort. Followed by two more. Reimu didn’t comment; hardly the first time a friend had casually threatened her life.

 

Still reeling as she was from Aunn’s heartfelt _aper_ _çu_ , a certain comment bubbled up in her stream of consciousness.

 

“I don’t make all my friends by fighting them,” she said. “What about Kasen, Akyuu, Kosuzu?”

 

“Ah!” Aunn swallowed the minty fragments. “That’s right! I think it’s great you’re making more human friends, in the more traditional human methods of polite conversation, too! Un!”

 

“I am capable of polite conversation,” snarled Reimu.

 

“Well, yes, but you shouldn’t venture too far out of your comfort zone of conflict too fast, miss! Not to worry, though.” She noticed Reimu’s narrowed eyes, and mistook the divine fury for social awkwardness, as so many before her had. “We both know what the human villagers say, and I want you to know and it’s not your fault they wonder if you’re a demon in human guise, letting youkai move about the shrine freely and drinking enough to put an oni under the table. It’s not your fault. Everyone is different! People just need to learn how to accept diversity. How is Miss Ibuki, by the way? I haven’t seen her in a while.”

 

A moment of smoldering silence passed before:

 

“Thank you for that, Aunn,” deadpanned Reimu.

 

“I’m here anytime you need a moral boost!” Aunn smiled hugely. Red and white bits were stuck in her teeth.

 

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Reimu stared at the finance book before her gaze drifted down to her komainu. Not fully believing she was about to do something so cruel, Reimu sent a silent prayer to the Hakurei God for forgiveness, wherever they happened to be. “Say, it’s a nice day out; a little cold, but still. Would you like to do something outside?”

 

“Oo! Oo!” Aunn hopped to her feet, where she continued to hop. “Can I sit in one place all day and stare at nothing for hours on end? Can I? Can I?”

 

“We-ellll,” drawled Reimu, maybe a little too theatrically. That didn’t stop Aunn from leaning forward in the most intense suspense Reimu had ever seen. “I guess.”

 

“Yay! Thank you, miss!” Aunn crashed a hug into Reimu’s midsection.

 

Reimu returned it in kind, even if she was quite suddenly having second thoughts about giving Aunn sugar.

 

_She’s probably the only other person in Gensokyo as excited about doing nothing as I am. We really are two of a kind_ , thought Reimu as the komainu bolted out onto the grounds. She felt slightly bad about comparing herself to a youkai. After all, some youkai were objectively tolerable people, quite unlike Reimu…

 

She listened as Aunn the faithful guardian scrabbled herself up onto her pedestal. She polished it every day. A good many things in the Shrine sparkled after she arrived.

 

Taking advantage of Aunn wasn’t a challenge. She may be solid as a rock, but you’d be forgiven for thinking she had an equivalent intelligence as well, mostly because Aunn wouldn’t understand what you said. She was easily distracted, and exceedingly simple to make go away when desired, such as, for example, the situation Reimu found herself in previously. Doing math with a komainu on you was nothing but a problem.

 

Reimu dove back into the world of chilly calculations feelingly like the salt of the earth; that is to say: Salt thrown upon the earth so nothing good would grow there again.

 

Minutes went by. The ink on her brush went dry of disuse.

 

She slammed it down.

 

On her knee-high bookcase sat a book from Suzunaan. A bookmark stuck out of it, parallel to its dented spine.

 

Reimu swooped over.

 

\-----

 

The shrine door was delicately opened. Reimu ventured a peek.

 

“Aunn? Would you come here please?”

 

The komainu in question bounded across the grounds in seconds. Reimu noted the empty bag of peppermint sticks tumble out of her pocket. Well, she could make time for sweeping later.

 

“What is it, miss?” said Aunn. She saluted smartly, smacking herself on the forehead and rocking slightly. “Where are they? Point me the direction of those youkai, and they’ll be coughing up their own spirits in no time!”

 

_Would you look at that. Maybe we’re more alike than I gave her credit for_ , thought Reimu, stepping into the sunlight.

 

“There’s no youkai. I finished doing the Shrine’s accounting and was wondering if you felt like the next chapter of latest Agatha Chris Q.?”

 

Aunn’s eyes exploded in sugary radiance.

 

“Would I?! Ah…” But her expression fell as a stray thought presented itself. “There’d be no one to guard the Shrine though. I don’t want you to think I’m not helping you. Un.”

 

“You shouldn’t think like that.” Reimu sat down on the Shrine’s porch. “I mean. We’d be guarding together. At the same time. That’s at least a two hundred percent increase in helping per second. Approximately. So, what do you say?”

 

“Wow,” breathed Aunn. “I had no idea you were so good with numbers, miss. Yeah, let’s continue!”

 

Aunn crouched down, where she stretched and padded in a circle four times before laying her head on the shrine maiden’s lap. Her tail thumped rhythmically on the porch. Unlike most youkai, Aunn herself ranked among the literate, albeit with a finger on each individual word and her lips moving. Besides, only Reimu read with all the _proper_ voices.

 

The book was cracked open.

 

“Chapter seventeen…” Reimu began.

 

The sky laid far away here, there was only earth, a living statue, to keep oneself grounded. So many kinds to miss out on if you spent all your time Ascending above them all.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This prompt was brought to us by dizzyhmuffin!
> 
> My Tumblr: https://clockworksampi.tumblr.com
> 
> I’m not personally sold on Reimu’s characterization here, but, as my numerous applications of the scientific method have revealed, self-loathing is a vital component in any good heartwarming story. But I am beginning to suspect bending character personalities every so slightly to fit the prompt may just come with the territory of doing promptfics.
> 
> Yes, prompts can still be submitted, so please, do so to your heart’s content. Rules here: https://clockworksampi.tumblr.com/post/169889843217/touhou-prompts


	5. Prompt 5: Rei’sen & Nemuno, Lost

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Touhou Project and all related trademarks are the property of Team Shanghai Alice. Please support the official products in every capacity.

The thunder splitting her head in half for the past who knows how long was finally beginning to quiet down, so that was a silver lining, at the very least.

 

Rei’sen, private in the Lunar Defense Corp and royal pet of the Watatsuki princesses, was quite annoyed at present.

 

Yesterday, her princesses had given her an order, as they tended to do. With the final aftereffects of the siege on the Lunar Capital being squared away, they were eager for another visit to their old master, and Rei’sen was to descend to Earth the following morning to set a date that worked for all schedules involved.

 

Problems began to arise when she took a Lunar Veil and flew down to Gensokyo she landed in a place she had no recollection of. She proceeded to spend the better part of all day looking for any kind of landmark to direct her to the Bamboo Forest, but to no avail. Everything on Earth looked the same! Just plants and water! No craters at all for a sensible person to make distinct landmarks out of.

 

One thing led to another; Rei’sen fell in what, with the benefit of hindsight, she knew now to be a pitfall trap, knocked her head, and gotten washed out into unconsciousness. She woke up here, hands and feet bound on the dirt floor of what appeared to be a storage shed of sorts.

 

And, wouldn’t you know it? A quick search of the premises had yielded nothing sharp in any capacity. Leave it to earthlings to not even manage a proper cell. Everyone on the moon _knew_ that when you capture a prisoner of war you must be absolutely certain that their cells contain the requisite amounts of broken glass, rusty hair pins, and enough ordinance to construct a juggernaught-class interstellar battle cruiser. It was only good manners!

 

The only thing Rei’sen had found of any note was large block of wood which been placed next to her head, for reasons beyond the understanding of such a mere private as Rei’sen.

 

No, Rei’sen was not in a good mood right now, but she daren’t scream out; that would give her position away. Lost, held prisoner by some filthy earthlings, alone, disappointing her princesses, and giving away a piece of Lunarian tech to the unwashed hands of an earthling. She wondered how the situation could get any worse.

 

She could die, admittedly. But Rei’sen was never too concerned about that. Whereas Lunar Veils could be quite expensive, Lunar Rabbits were not, technically, worth anything.

 

A pair of thumping footfalls approached the shed door, which swung open to reveal a figure silhouetted against the daylight. Eyes adjusting to the sun, Rei’sen could only make out a mane of tangled grey hair and, hoisted over its shoulder, a thick cleaver.

 

Rei’sen brightened.

 

“Hello there! Don’t suppose you could give me hand? On my quest to deliver a message for Lady Eirin Yagokoro I seem to have gotten myself into quite the pickle, as you say on Earth. Would you be so kind as to cut me loose? You have the perfect instrument for it, I dare say!”

 

The figure gripped the cleaver with both hands.

 

“Well ain’t that a thing,” it said.

 

The cleaver was brought down heavily on the chopping block. Rei’sen leapt back.

 

The figure squatted, meeting Rei’sen’s eyes. Crimson met crimson.

 

“Yer one a’ Doc Yagokoro’s girls, then?”

 

Getting adjusted to the light level, Rei’sen could make out more of the body attached to the cleaver. Rei’sen had to remind herself that earthlings partook in the horrendously archaic process of ‘aging’. With age came wisdom, or so it had been said. The apparition before her, then, must have been quite wise, indeed, if such an adjective could be attached to an earthling. Adorned around its figure was a patchwork dress in various shades of orange, and while a loose, flowing sleeve covered her arms, the muscle strung down them like suspension on a bridge were highly visible. It was impossible to tell if this thing was a human or youkai, but Rei’sen never bothered much with labels when all were equal filth under the moon’s purity.

 

“ _You_ know Lady Yagokoro?”

 

The figure shrugged. “Kinda-sorta. You here to sell more medicine? Last stuff worked a swell treat, an’ make no mistake.” It craned its neck, looking Rei’sen up and down. “Don’t see no medicine on ye. Kids say th’ only thin’ ye ‘ad on ya was a cloth all a sparklin’.”

 

“Eh, no, I’m not a medicine seller. Why would Lady Yagokoro need to send out merchants for denizens of the Bamboo Forest of the Lost?”

 

The figure, slowly, glaring at Rei’sen one of the hardest glares she had been on the receiving end of, said, “Come again?”

 

“Eh…this _is_ the Bamboo Forest of the Lost?” said Rei’sen, uncertainty rising. “Isn’t it?”

 

For a second, the figure appeared to reach out to pat Rei’sen’s head, but second guessed itself.

 

“Th’ Bamboo Forest is on th’ other side of th’ river, dearie.” It waved to indicate the general area. “This here is Youkai Mountain.”

 

“What?” Rei’sen struggled to a sitting position. “But it’s a forest! I got lost! There were pitfalls _and_ waking up in unknown locations with fewer possessions than when you started! How is this not the Bamboo Forest?”

 

The figure smiled. Its whole face seemed to soften.

 

“Well, the lack of bamboo, for one,” it said.

 

Rei’sen only scowled. Okay, so bamboo apparently wasn’t a woody plant, but how was she expected to know that? The moon wanted little in the way of flora beyond food and aesthetic harmony, requiring no such superannuated thing like an atmosphere.

 

“Here’s the thing, dearie.” said the grey-haired apparition. “Some of my kids said they brought in a rabbit what got caught in one of the traps around. So’s I was, an’ don’t take this person’ly, I was gonna to cut yer head off, peel ya into slices and dry ya into jerky.”

 

“Oh,” said Rei’sen, not taking it personally to the best of her abilities.

 

The figure scratched its cheek in that awkward manner of one not used to apologizing for attempted murder.

 

“Say ‘was’ ‘cause I figure I owe the Doc one. See, one a’ her med’cine sellers came ‘round with some flu cure that saved the hide a’ more than a few a’ my kiddos last summer, an’ I’ve been itchin’ of a way to pay the Doc back. Tried bakin’ ‘er a shepherd’s pie, only it turns out she don’t like shepherds too much.”

 

“I believe Lady Yagokoro is what is referred to as a ‘humanitarian.’”

 

“Yeah, ‘parently that word doesn’t mean what I thought it meant.” The earthling leaned on the cleaver. “So, way I sees it, I take ya outa here, point ya in the right direction a’ the Bamboo Forest, an’ me an’ the Doc call it even. What’d’ya say?”

 

Rei’sen stared at the cleaver stuck in the block of wood. A paragon of crude earthling design, to be certain. The inelegance of the thing was matched only by the overwhelming simplicity that went into its construction; little more than a hunk of iron screwed onto a wooden chunk. The royal swordsmith would have wept frenzied sobs at such a degradation of the Art.

 

And yet…and yet, Rei’sen had little doubt of its capacity to split hares.

 

“I think it’s safe to say my masters would appreciate my continued life.” And, as an afterthought, Rei’sen added: “As would I, I suppose.”

 

“Tha’s what I like to hear!” The cleaver flashed, and Rei’sen felt a tightness loosen around her hands, legs, and bladder.

 

“Kids,” the figure sighed. “Keep tellin’ ‘em ta learn how ta tie. Timber Hitch’ll save yer life, mark my words. An’ they jus’ tangle the rope together more often than knot.”

 

Rei’sen stood, rubbing the blood back into her hands. “You’re not going to miss that rope?”

 

“Nah. Gonna have the kiddos make a new one as punishment fer tyin’ ye up so poor-like.” A hand that could have easily been a shovel was shoved in Rei’sen’s face. “Nemuno Sakata. Welcome ta my home.”

 

“Nice to meet you.” Rei’sen shook the hand, making double mental notes to teach her own hand the definition of ‘toughly decontaminated’ when she returned to the moon.

 

“Ya got a handshake like a braindead octopus, girl!” said Nemuno.

 

“Thank you, ma’am.”

 

“That wasn’t a complement!”

 

“Oh. Sorry. That’s the rabbit in me. Natural selection, you see, ma’am. Rabbits who are generally placative to those who can end their life as easy as they breath are the ones who live long enough to procreate.”

 

“Ha! Ye could pr’bably teach my youngins a thing or two, then…er…never got yer name.”

 

“Name? Oh. I don’t have one. But my masters call me Rei’sen.”

 

“An’ wha’ do _other_ folks call ye?”

 

“Oh, you know. Things like ‘Hey,’ or ‘You.’ Once it was ‘One With The Blue Hair.’”

 

Nemuno threw back her head in great, guffawing laughter, as huge as she was.

 

“I’ll stick with Rei’sen, then. Come on. Daylight’s wastin’.” She strode into the radiant sunlight. Rei’sen then heard: “Oi! Five minutes! Five minutes I’m gone, and ye start trying ta set fire ta yer sister’s new dress! Give me tha’ magnifying glass! Now, young man! Lest ye wan’ ta be stewin’ in yer problems. An’ I _know_ ya know th’ type of stewin’ I’m talkin’ about!”

 

Nemuno’s voice stormed off. With little else that didn’t want to kill her, Rei’sen followed it, marveling at what fools these earthlings be, to laugh when no one has told a joke.

 

\-----

 

“…alright. Tha’ should be th’ worst of it. Jus’ need ta follow this here path down an’ ‘round th’ human village. Still got a bit t’ th’ end ‘a my territory. Let’s make tracks, girl!”

 

Nemuno broke through the brush like a galleon wielding a cleaver and continued down without breaking her bare footed stride.

 

Through the branches and crushed shrubbery, Rei’sen stumbled out. Assuming ‘path’ referred to the vaguely stamped down grass Nemuno was walking on, Rei’sen hopped after her.

 

Some of the most exhausting three hours of her life was now behind Rei’sen. In reverse order, she had taken a perilous hike down a youkai infested mountain following someone who carried a cleaver in place of compunction, been introduced to all the children under said person’s care, threw up, and had been force-fed a taste-test of a steak and kidney pie.

 

As if this wasn’t enough, she found herself additionally disconcerted by One: All the trees were beginning to make her claustrophobic. As a member of the Lunar Defense Corp, she had been trained to use the grand lunar metropolises to her advantage. Maybe Her Highnes Toyohime was content to spend her days off up a ladder in the branches of her peach trees, balancing a notebook on a knee with a scabbard full of tiny brushes on the opposite hip, but to Rei’sen, it just seemed like the pits.

 

And Two: Nemuno kept trying to invite small talk into the silence. A Lunar Rabbit was quite comfortable having her presence ignored. She had asked if Rei’sen had any ‘plans for the weekend’ _five times_. Rei’sen didn’t know why she had to stand for such an insult.

 

And Nemuno was _still going_.

 

“Get a load ‘a tha’ fresh mountain air,” she said, hacking through the foliage with ease. “Ye can feel it doin’ yer pipes a world of good, eh?”

 

“My…‘pipes’ are in adequate condition, I assure you.”

 

“Bah! Ye sound like my kids. Never want t’ go outside anymore. Back in _my_ day, we climbed trees t’ scrapes on our knees! We cut ‘em down t’ get blisters on our hands! We used ‘em to cook a man t’ keep our stomachs full! Builds character, it does!”

 

“That’s barbaric!”

 

“Sounds like someone who ain’t built ‘nough character.”

 

“I have plenty of character,” Rei’sen seethed. “People stop when I walk by and say, ‘Wow, look at her. She has so much character I can’t believe it. Look at what an interesting character she is.’”

 

Nemuno gazed over her shoulder, sizing up this claim. Rei’sen, admittedly, was not one who required much in the way of sizing. _Chairs_ had better defined legs than her.

 

“If ye insist.” Nemuno turned back to the path. “Somethin’ I’ve been wantin’ t’ ask. Tha’ Veil thing, ye said it makes ye fly, yeah? Not tha’ I’m complainin’ ‘bout th’ company, by ya could jus’ fly t’ the Bamboo Forest, couldn’t ya?”

 

“And give away my position?” Rei’sen was aghast. “Be outlined against the sky for anyone to take potshots at me?”

 

“Oh, there ain’t no one dang’rous here.”

 

“Er. It’s more for the principle of the thing,” Rei’sen told the earthling holding a blade bigger than her torso.

 

That was one positive happenstance, at least; her Lunar Veil had been returned to her, now tucked away safely in her blazer’s interior pocket. She wasn’t a complete failure to her masters. She decided it was a feeling she could get used to.

 

“I don’t mean t’, ya know, _profile_ ,” said Nemuno, bringing her cleaver down on a fallen tree and kicking it to the side. “But is there a reason why all rabbits are so jumpy? Even the medicine seller tha’ came by, tall, gangly thing, looked like she was always ready to split in ev’ry direction a’ th’ same time.”

 

“We have a tendency to graze out of situations,” said Rei’sen. Something went _ding_ in her memory. A gangly rabbit medicine seller from Eientei? Did that mean…? “Say, this rabbit, did she have pale hair and red eyes? Maybe had an aura of lunar purity about her that meant she was better than every earth rabbit by default?”

 

“Don’t know about that last bit, but the hair and the eyes, for sure. You know her?”

 

In truth, Rei’sen didn’t know as much as she would have liked. Whenever her masters began talking about their previous pet, they shushed themselves immediately and assured Rei’sen that she wasn’t a replacement and they loved her very much. Her predecessor’s eyes, in particular, were the topic of extensive discussion among the Lunar nobility, apparently possessing the ability to induce radical mental instability in any that make eye contact with her. The reason, as it had been hypothesized, why Gensokyo had not been reduced to a gibbering mess was that everything down there was already radically mentally unstable. Rei’sen would not be surprised if this turned out to be the case.

 

“A little,” said Rei’sen. “We share a lot of what we have to our name, though.”

 

“Ye could do with talking to ‘er. So could she. Poor dear was just a ball of nerves when I was negotiating prices. T’ tell the truth, I think I scared the poor thing.”

 

“Really? Can’t imagine why.”

 

“Me either, Rei’sen. Me either.” Nemuno gave a sad sigh. “Even tol’ ‘er some a’ my best knife puns t’ calm ‘er down, but, they jus’ seemed t’ make ‘er _more_ jittery, fer some reason.”

 

“They didn’t quite cut it, eh?” Rei’sen beamed hugely.

 

But Nemuno was too busy studying the marks on a tree to notice Rei’sen’s ingenious display of wit.

 

“Yep,” she said, resting her cleaver on her shoulder. “This is th’ end a’ th’ line, alright.”

 

Rei’sen looked around. The flora looked the same as ever.

 

“This is the Bamboo Forest of the Lost?”

 

“Sure ain’t! This here’s th’ end of my territ’ry. I can’t go no further with ya.”

 

Rei’sen frowned. “Not to be rude, but when you said you’d show me the way to Eientei, I assumed that meant the _whole_ way, ma’am.”

 

A dark shadow descended on Nemuno.

 

“Are ye askin’ a yamanba t’ step offa ‘er land?”

 

“Er. Is that not a thing I should be asking?”

 

“Sure ain’t!” said Nemuno, smile glistening like freshly oiled blade.

 

Rei’sen, a large proponent of staying as far away from earthlings as possible, felt a sense of unease at the idea of parting from Nemuno. Odd, since it wasn’t as if she felt safe around her. After spending this time with her, Rei’sen got the impression that _no one_ was safe around Nemuno. Maybe that was the point. If Nemuno had no reason to reduce your height by a head, such as her being hungry, or you stepping foot on her land, this aura could be magnified and directed for considerable unsafety in others. Rei’sen wasn’t aware she had found the thought comforting until it was leaving.

 

Nemuno beckoned the rabbit over and pointed down the trail.

 

“So jus’ follow this path straight on an’ ye should get there, no fuss. Ya’ll’ll ‘ave t’ hop, skip, an’, soar over th’ river. So be on th’ lookout fer tha’. Ya’ll know ya’ve hit th’ Bamboo Forest when ye hit the bamboo forest. Ifin ye need any help from there, heard there was a nice yakitori seller ye can talk t’.”

 

“Understood. Thank you regardless, ma’am. I will be certain to put in a good word with my masters regarding you.” This was exceptionally high honors coming from Rei’sen, her masters’ ears being one of the only things she possessed. “When this land is Cleansed, it’s inhabitants Purified, you may yet find sanctuary under the Watatsuki banner.”

 

Nemuno smiled and nodded slowly, as one does to the hard of sanity.

 

“Sure thing, honey,” she said. “But, ifin ye don’t mind, think ye could do me a little somethin’ else fer guidin’ ya? If ya happen across any little critters who look like they’re havin’ a rough time, humans, youkai, anything, read in th’ paper ‘bout a tiny celestial girl, even, you point ‘em in my direction, ‘kay?”

 

A certain stillness overcame Rei’sen’s posture as she stared down to her feet. When her voice finally came, it was so far off, it might as well have come from space.

 

“Creatures having a tough time, you say?”

 

Nemuno leaned against the tree and regarded Rei’sen with what could have been intrigue.

 

“I do say. Got someone in mind?”

 

“I…might. There’s a rabbit I know of, who shall remain nameless. Her masters, they don’t respect her.”

 

“What, not at all?”

 

“Not in the slightest. If she were to run away, it would probably take them weeks to figure out she was gone.”

 

“Sounds easy to kidnap!” said Nemuno, Mother of the Year.

 

“You probably won’t need to. Given her experiences, Part of me is willing to put money on her just abandoning her masters and living here.” Rei’sen looked up and shrugged. “But I have to be honest; the larger part of me doubts she’ll consider it. With all the experimenting on her have no doubt addled her mind to make her think her masters care about her.” She shook her head. “You know, it’s sad how some people are too blinded by loyalty to realize how they’re being treated like refuse.”

 

“Truly depressin’,” said Nemuno, and when Rei’sen’s expression remained unchanged, she added: “There…anyone else ya thinkin’ ‘bout?”

 

Rei’sen scratched behind her ear in contemplation.

 

“No. No one I can remember.”

 

“Sure?”

 

“Fairly. Why?”

 

For a moment, more fleeting than a flash of lightning, Nemuno’s face was a portrait of wretchedness, painted by a master of watercolors who flawless captured the inner struggle of one’s honor of keeping their word raging against their higher morality by deliberately _not_ kidnapping someone.

 

Eventually, she shook her head fiercely.

 

“I said I’d getcha to were yer goin’,” she said, for as much as her benefit as for Rei’sen’s. “If you ever find yerself in the area, ya come by and see ol’ Nemuno again, y’hear?”

 

“I’ll keep that in mind. I’ll have a talk with that nameless rabbit, but no promises, unfortunately.”

 

“Jus’ talk. All I ask.”

 

They turned and went down they’re separate paths.

 

Though she was navigating her feet around roots and rocks, Rei’sen found her gaze drawing upward. The sun was setting. A few stars, realizing they had shown up early, twinkled timidly amongst the fading light. And, of course, there was…

 

A small, buck-toothed smile lifted Rei’sen’s features.

 

Even in this hostile, alien atmosphere, Luna floated proudly in the terrestrial sky.

 

Right. No time to lose. Her masters were probably worried sick over her tardiness. She quickened toward Eientei feeling, for what was possibly the first time today, not lost in the slightest.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This prompt was brought to us by taberone!
> 
> My Tumblr: https://clockworksampi.tumblr.com
> 
> Nemuno’s accent is probably inconsistent. I chalk this up to never figuring out what type of accent she’s supposed to have.
> 
> Yes, prompts can still be submitted, so please, do so to your heart’s content. Rules here: https://clockworksampi.tumblr.com/post/169889843217/touhou-prompts


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